ODE VII.

by S. John Damascene.

Ὁ παῖδας ἐκ καμίνου.

Who from the fiery furnace saved the Three, Suffers as mortal; that, His Passion o’er, This mortal, triumphing o’er death, might be Vested with immortality once more: He Whom our fathers still confestGod over all, for ever blest.

The women with their ointment seek the Tomb: And Whom they mourned as dead, with many a tear, They worship now, joy dawning on their gloom, As Living God, as mystic Passover; Then to the Lord's Disciples gave The tidings of the vanquished grave.

We keep the festal of the death of death; Of hell o’erthrown: the first-fruits pure and bright, Of life eternal; and with joyous breath Praise Him that won the victory by His might: Him Whom our fathers still confestGod over all, for ever blest.

All hallowed festival, in splendour born! Night of salvation and of glory! Night Fore-heralding the Resurrection morn! When from the tomb the everlasting Light, A glorious frame once more his own, Upon the world in splendour shone.